


Swing Set Serendipity

by sophh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon compliant except for the kids' ages, Discord: Dumbledore's Armada, Flash Fic, Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, Luna Lovegood is a Good Friend, Swing Set, You're My Best Friend: A Dumbledore's Armada Flash Comp, maths is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29949153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophh/pseuds/sophh
Summary: Over the years, the Muggle playground down in the village has become Ginny's sanctuary. Over the years, her friendship with Luna Lovegood has developed, too.Winner: Best Use of Promptin You're My Best Friend, a flash comp hosted by WolfSquish in the Dumbledore's Armada discord!
Relationships: Luna Lovegood & Ginny Weasley
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15
Collections: You're My Best Friend





	Swing Set Serendipity

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DA_Friendship](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DA_Friendship) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  A swing set
> 
> The ages of the kids at the end are not canon-compliant. The Author Who Shall Not Be Named sucks at maths, and apparently I do too. 
> 
> All of the thanks goes to my amazing alpha/beta, AlocYrrehc, without whom this piece would not have been finished.
> 
> And of course, thanks to WolfSquish for hosting this fun, friendship-themed comp!

At age 9, Ginny's favorite place to go when she was overwhelmed was the Muggle playground down in the village. It wasn't fancy, by any means, but it felt like a second home to her. 

In one corner, there was a squeaky roundabout that had once sported vibrant shades of red, yellow, and blue. There was a groaning seesaw in another corner, painted in similar now-faded colors. There was even a small climbing frame with a slide right in the middle of the overgrown lot. But Ginny's favorite piece of equipment was the old metal swing set that was tucked away in the back. 

She spent hours on it, relishing the rush that she experienced whenever she soared upwards, which was quickly replaced by a tight feeling in her chest as she plummeted toward the ground. 

Swinging brought her peace. If she closed her eyes, she could even pretend that she was flying on a broomstick, something she was rarely able to do because her brothers wouldn't let her borrow theirs. 

Another little girl joined her on the swings sometimes, a girl with long blonde hair and wide grey eyes. Ginny knew who she was—her name was Luna Lovegood, and she came from a magical family, too. Aside from exchanging quick hellos, however, they didn't talk to each other much. Instead, they sat side-by-side and swung in silence as the chirping of birds, the creaking of the swings, and Luna's occasional humming provided a soundtrack for their separate musings. 

Until one day, Luna showed up in tears. 

At first, Ginny didn't know what to do. Her brothers never cried—or if they did, she didn't know about it. She tried to ignore the snuffles and stifled sobs, but felt awkward ignoring the other girl's blatant distress. Finally, she disembarked from her swing and walked over to the blonde. 

"What's wrong, Luna?" 

"It's my mother," the girl replied, gazing at her sadly. "She's dead." 

Ginny wasn't sure how to respond to that. Her uncles were dead, too, but she had never met them. Luna, on the other hand, must have known her mother very well. Ginny tried to imagine how she would feel if her own mother was gone. Her family would probably fall apart. _She_ would probably fall apart. 

If that was how Luna felt right now, Ginny hoped she could be the glue that held her together. 

"I'm sorry," she said at last. She tilted her head at the blonde. "What's your favorite memory of her?"

* * *

At age 14, Ginny's favorite place to go when she was overwhelmed was the Muggle playground down in the village. 

There was a war on the horizon, and even if Ginny wasn't old enough to be present at Order meetings, she knew what the future held. Death. Bloodshed. Despair. The adults in her life wanted to protect her innocence, but that had been shattered long ago by an act of possession. 

She visited the playground often, then. It became her escape, a place where she didn't have to think about the grim reality that lay ahead. A place where she didn't have to think about anything but the wind in her hair and the camaraderie of a certain blonde-haired girl. 

Sometimes, though, her fears came spilling out anyway. 

"I'm scared, Luna." Ginny gripped the chains of the swing so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She kept her eyes fixed on the ground, afraid of what she might find in the depths of her friend's disconcerting stare. 

"Of what?" There was no judgment in Luna's voice, only unbridled comfort. 

Ginny thought for a moment, trying and failing to put a name to the dark cloud that seemed to follow her everywhere. Finally, she settled on a vague idea, a simplistic phrase that didn't quite encompass the enormity of her worries. "The future."

"That's perfectly understandable," Luna said gently. "It's impossible to know what the future holds, but there's beauty in knowing that we'll get through it together, isn't there?"

When Luna wrapped her arms around Ginny a moment later, Ginny hugged her back, trying to communicate her thanks through that simple gesture. 

* * *

At age 17, Ginny's favorite place to go when she was overwhelmed was the Muggle playground down in the village. 

The war was over, and everyone acted like everything could just go back to normal. But Ginny grew up in the shadow of the war and if there was one thing she was unsure about, it was what _normal_ even was. 

Luna joined her on the swings almost every day that summer. Ginny appreciated the company—she was grateful to not be completely alone, and Luna's presence was more soothing than the atmosphere at the Burrow, where everything felt stifled and tense. 

She didn't push Ginny to talk. Everyone else wanted to know how Ginny was coping with the loss of her brother. They wanted her to know _how very sorry they were for her loss._ Luna wasn't like everyone else, though, and Ginny had never been more happy about that. 

The two young women simply sat on the swings, rocking back and forth in a gentle rhythm that soothed their aching hearts and minds. 

* * *

At age 30, Ginny's favorite place to go when she is overwhelmed is the Muggle playground down in the village. 

"I call the swing on the left!" James Sirius shouts, running away from his mother without hesitation. Ginny, still holding Albus Severus' hand, rolls her eyes before turning to Luna and her twin sons. "Sorry about that. He's not good at sharing, even with his own brother."

"I suppose he'll get more practice with that when your daughter arrives," Luna says, in her absentminded yet wise way. "Sharing, I mean."

Ginny looks down at her swollen belly and nods. She's been talking to Harry about naming the baby after their blonde friend, but she doesn't want to spoil the surprise just yet. 

"Yes, I suppose you're right. He'll have to share his parents with _two_ siblings instead of just the one." 

She, Albus, and Luna trail after the older boys, watching to make sure that they don't hurt themselves but giving them a little space, too. After all, James is only one year younger than Ginny was when she first started to come here. He's only a year younger than she was when she first discovered this playground-turned-personal-sanctuary, her haven from despair and turmoil. 

She hopes that it will mean as much to her children as it did to her and Luna. She hopes that they, too, will be comforted by the repetitive motion of the swing, and chase that same rush that she once did. She hopes, but she won't force it. 

James helps Lysander onto one of the swings before settling onto the leftmost one that he claimed with such exuberance. Ginny smiles as she watches him pump his legs back and forth, urging the swing higher and higher. Her eyes trace his arc through the air, and she can't help but find the metaphor in it: Life has its highs and lows, but she'll never be stuck in the lows for very long. Not when she has the love and support of her family, and of friends like Luna Lovegood. 


End file.
